For later
by Chyrstis
Summary: Pierce wants to talk business. Mostly. -SR2-


Based on the prompt - Malapert - Clever in manners of speech, with Grant and Pierce (or Grant/Pierce)! Many thanks to autumnyte for the check and careful eye, because I really wanted to make sure that Pierce's voice was down.

* * *

"Hey, boss." Pierce glanced up when Grant entered the room and waved him over. "Good timing. I want you to take a look at this."

Grant came around the desk and took in what was stacked on it. Pay statements, photographs, logos - the assortment was all over the place, and he pulled one over to scan it while Pierce kept on working.

"Thought you might like an update on the business end of our little empire," he said, completely at ease.

Compared to the tension that had been present in him for the last week, this was a complete contrast, and if Grant was honest, a pleasant surprise. "Things looking up?"

"Let's just say that our little investment's starting to pay off. Our off-brand Loa Dust has taken some time to work its way into the market, but after talking to Shaundi and going over the numbers, I've finally got something solid to go off of, and it's looking good. Real good."

"Show me."

Perching himself on the corner of the desk, he watched Pierce pull up the files and glanced at the computer when he angled the monitor towards him. "Starting off fresh, we were hemorrhaging cash left and right, but our dealers finally made the right calls and contacts. I actually just got off the line with one about fifteen minutes ago, and after testing our product, they want to keep it flowing. Something about it being the best trip they've had short of heading down to Tijuana for a weekend, and they'd like to spread the fun."

"To all of the right people, I gather?"

"I ain't gonna drop any names, but they're pretty influential, and if they do, this'll be it. We'll reverse any and all losses by the end of the month."

"That soon?" Pierce nodded, and there wasn't any trace or hint of doubt present. "Huh. You're set on this."

"Set? It's a straight up fact," Pierce said, but dialed it back when he met Grant's eyes again. "Might not be the jackpot, but we're turning it around, boss. Give it some time after that, and we're talking solid profits. We wanted to corner their market, and we did, but now we've got something that'll actually sustain itself over time. And any profits from there could easily be funneled into work with the girls, merch, anything."

Grant sat up. "…Merch?"

"Uh…yeah. Merchandise." Pierce sat still for a good minute as Grant stared him down, and leaned forward when Grant failed to elaborate further. "So, we need people. I know we've got a solid crew right now, but if we're gonna take this all the way to the top we'll need more than that."

Grant pulled over a folder, took in a deep breath and flipped it open. One of the largest portraits he had ever seen met his eyes, and he had to lean in closer to take in every detail. It was easily the most elaborate take on their name that he had ever seen, and barely recognizable as spray paint.

"I got in touch with a friend of mine, a local artist that's been wanting to make it big for a while. She's on to throw signs like this up in local hotspots to see if we can get more people lined up. She also has a few ins at the higher-end nightclubs.

He gestured towards one of the nearby fliers, and Grant recognized the name. As one of the flashier clubs, it would get them some needed exposure. "We get them on our payroll, and we can up our income while spreading the word at the same time. And" - he pulled out a few additional fliers - "I've also got someone that's willing to get something official drafted for us. Jerseys, shirts, jackets, you name it. Senior members get to fly this shit for free, but anyone that's interested? Why shouldn't they get a shot at one too? Help us get a solid look down."

"Aside from purple?"

"The color's one thing, but we throw a few pieces in there, and we'll be the sharpest motherfuckers on the street. And with you out front, it'd be foolproof."

"Ah." He looked down at his dark shirt and torn jeans, and pursed his lips. "The current look not cutting it?"

"Shit, that's not-" Pierce's comment trailed off as he watched Grant closely, and when the corners of Grant's mouth twitched upward, Pierce shook his head. "Not cool, boss. You know I take that shit seriously coming from you, right?"

"But it isn't, is it?"

Pierce waffled a bit before responding. "I'm just saying, a nice pair of slacks wouldn't hurt."

The frayed holes in the denim weren't holding up well at all, and he brushed a thumb along the edge of one of the larger ones by his knee. "No, it wouldn't."

"But that's for later. Just thinking ahead, you know? Planning."

Grant's amusement grew when Pierce quickly shifted his attention away, and pulled over a few of the inventory forms for the warehouses by the docks. He made bold checks as he went, and Grant wouldn't have noticed the slight tremor in his pen if he hadn't been checking for it.

"You know…you've been wound up lately, boss." Pierce cleared his throat, then added, "I know we're busy, but I don't think I've seen you take a moment to yourself since we've started any of this shit."

"No?"

"No. I've seen you supervise almost every operation running out of here, and that's not easy. We're running twenty-four hours straight, and I can't recall a time we haven't been able to get in touch with you for any of it. You ever sleep?"

"I have."

"Or eat?"

Grant snorted. "On occasion."

"Or hell, get laid? Haven't seen much company go your way." The slow tapping of Pierce's pen drew Grant's eye, and he kept it up for close to thirty seconds before moving on to the next section. "Some days you've gotta take the edge off somehow."

It had been close to a month since he had, now that he thought about it. With everything else, it had fallen low on his list of priorities, but the mention did make him consider it. And with the consideration came the hint of an ache that he missed. "It helps."

"But you know you don't have to look far, right?" Grant flicked his eyes up, but Pierce was still going over the numbers in front of him. "Guy like you? All you'd have to do is ask."

The small smile that played at his lips was one Grant didn't think he would see aimed at him, and he peered at Pierce through his sunglasses. Interesting. "A simple question would work?"

"Yeah, quick and dirty," Pierce replied, without hesitation. "Or not so quick and dirty, if you've got the time."

He signed the next form with a flourish, and Grant watched him sweep the line from one letter to the next until he came to a complete stop. "I could make some."

The pen hesitated, and Pierce's smile grew. "I'm sure you could. Just thought I'd pass that along. You know, because I know a few people that would be down for that."

"I see." The corner of Grant's mouth curved up, and he gave the papers once last check before getting up and turning to leave. "Something to keep in mind for later, yeah?"

"Later?" Pierce glanced over at him briefly, and chuckled. "Yeah. We'll go with that."


End file.
